And I Work With These Idiots
by Bringer of the Tide
Summary: A collection of short, silly Trekkin' drabbles. Rated T for safety.
1. Hella Pillow Talk

**a/n:** So... basically these are just gonna be a bunch of silly little paragraph drabbles I type up when I'm bored or procrastinating, or inspiration strikes. There will 100% guaranteed be references to other things in here besides just Trek humour. I'm odd that way. But I hope you enjoy them, and derive at least some small amount of amusement. I apologize if they're a little Scones-centric at times. I think we know who my two favorite characters are. Without further ado:

* * *

"You have not had sex with everyone on this ship."

"Oh yeah, who did I miss?"

"Scotty over there, is the first one that comes to mind-"

Kirk interrupted Bones, waving a hand at him.

"Who said I didn't?"

"I did." Scotty said flatly, not bothering (or wanting, for that matter) to look up from his technical journal.

"Oh yeah, who else?" Jim shot at McCoy. Bones gave him a wry smile.

"Me."

"Oh, come on, I totally-"

"Screaming 'oh, Doctor!' as you orgasm doesn't count as sleeping with me."

Kirk gave the doctor a reproachful look.

"But that's its name."

McCoy grimaced, upper lip curling unpleasantly as his nose scrunched.

"Really wish you'd change it…"

"…to what?"

"Well, mine are 'oh, God!' and 'Fuck Me!'"

Scotty's head snapped up, the look on his face somewhere between incredulous and annoyed.


	2. That's Beside The Point

Bones' lips were pursed and his brow was furrowed as if he were deep in thought.

"What's the matter, Bones?" Jim asked, intrigued.

Bones frowned.

"Did you ever think of how stupid it is for Vampires to be allergic to garlic?"

Jim deadpanned, not able to believe his ears. This sounded like a question Bones would hit him for asking, and there he was asking it himself.

"Um. No, I haven't. Why?"

"Because. People don't just walk around with cloves of garlic in their pocket, or whatever."

"Bones, I think that's the point."

"No, see, wouldn't it make more sense for them to be allergic to like… chocolate?"

Kirk scrunched his nose.

"Chocolate."

"Yeah. I mean, some average person on the street just walking is like a million times more likely to have chocolate than he is to have garlic. So, wouldn't it make sense for a vampire to be allergic to chocolate instead?" He stared at Kirk expectantly. Kirk, dumbfounded, stood silently for a long time.

"…Bones, vampires aren't real."


	3. Night Rider's Lament

**A/N: **A more somber drabble this time, written as a starter post for Facebook. In this scenario, McCoy has discovered that he is suffering from Xenopolycythemia (look up "For the World is Hollow and I Have Touched the Sky" on Wikipedia.), and has resigned from Starfleet to spend the remainder of his days in Georgia as a private practice Doctor. here he spends one of his many sleepless nights reflecting upon his life, and how he wishes it were different.

* * *

The increasing amount of sleepless nights per week didn't alarm Len; there had been plenty of sleepless nights in his life and, though that time was now limited, there would be more of them. Many, many more, he suspected. Instead of fretting over the loss of sleep, he had decided to keep the early morning company, leaving the sanctity of his bed in favor of sitting on the roof, as he and Greyson had done as kids. He didn't care about the stars, though they were bright and numerous in the Country night, this small part of the world still untainted. They seemed to have lost their wonder and mystique, as he had spent so much time among them, SO much closer to them than he was now. Instead, he gave his attention to the sounds of the night; wind rustling through the willow trees, crickets, and the other naturally comforting sounds that he had all but forgotten in his time away. He felt guilty, like he had forsaken these things, these childhood comforts, in order to search for a purpose. For a while, there had been one, but that had just as easily been forsaken.

His thoughts shifted again to the events preceding the present; the actions he had taken and the choices he had made that had lead up to that very moment in time, that had brought him out to sit on this very rooftop tonight. He had joined Starfleet because he had been left without a purpose. (Which was not entirely true. He could have made his daughter his purpose, which was, at the time, what he believed he was doing. He had wholeheartedly been of the opinion that his actions were to offer his daughter a better life when, in reality, it had only made her resent him more, and because of that, he had lost her.) In order to regain that purpose, he set out to do the only thing he knew how to anymore, and he had earned himself the title "Chief Medical Officer". That was damn well something, considering that the Enterprise was Starfleet's god damn flagship, complete with the best crew to ever man a space-going vessel.

That had been the first indication that his decision, besides the setbacks, had been the right one to make. The second one, god help him, was James Kirk. Cocky to the extreme, careless, and a magnet for trouble (not to mention damn near unbearable, at times.), but nevertheless, underneath it all still a good Captain. Despite his inability to take almost anything seriously, there were times when Jim almost scared Bones with the amount of sincerity with which he regarded him. The kid had the ability to tell when he was lying, but never the good grace to leave it the hell alone.

The third and final thing that re-enforced his decision was still inside, most likely oblivious to the fact that Len was no longer still beside him. Len was never instantly attracted to anything or anyone, and Montgomery Scott had damn well been no exception. Whereas the Doctor's off-putting dislike for human beings caused most people to tend to avoid him as much as possible, Scotty had been the exception. Eventually he had warmed up to the Engineer's perpetually cheerful attitude, and had even come to have an admiration for how absolutely unfazed he was by pretty much anything an everything.

A long, slow sigh escaped him as he sat there, his thoughts playing over the events that had taken place in their time serving together. Looking back on it, he realized that the only prevalent feeling he had was the ever growing fondness he held for the Engineer. A pang of loneliness swept through him at that thought, as he recalled everything. He realized that he didn't remember when the urgent need for one another had faded between them, settling into simply being used to having one another around. Guilt assaulted him as the thought came to mind that perhaps the loss of connection had been his fault. In his self doubt, he had pulled away, and in doing so, damaged what the two of them had together. He was quite sure that his own heart wasn't the only one he had broken.

Now lonely and heartbroken in addition to not being able to sleep, Len looked up to the slowly paling sky, wishing for, more than anything, the way things used to be. He wished that he could take things back, relive other things, and do still other things differently. He wanted his confidence back. He wanted his life back. More than anything, he wanted the relationship that was slowly slipping through his fingers back.

Closing his eyes, Len leaned back against the windowsill, no longer comforted. Now, he was just miserable.


End file.
